This section is from the book "Stories From The Thousand And One Nights", by Edward William Lane and Stanley Lanepoole. Also available from Amazon: Stories From Thousand And One Nights: The Arabian Nights' Entertainments.
But he, when he got the Lamp and knew it was the Lamp of the Treasure, instantly put it in his bosom and abandoned the rest of the lamps to the people who were chaffering with him, and went running till he came to the outskirts of the city, when he walked on over the plains and waited patiently till night had fallen, and he saw that be was alone in the desert, and none there but he* Then he took forth the Lamp from his bosom and rubbed it, and immediately the Marid appeared to him, and said: "At thy service, I am thy slave in thy hands; ask of me what thou desirest." So the Moor replied: "I require thee to remove the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din from its site, with its inmates and all that is in it, and myself also, and set it in my country, the land of Africa. Thou knowest my town, and I wish this palace to be in my town, among the gardens." And the Marid slave replied, "I hear and obey. Shut thine eye and open it, and thou wilt find thyself in thy country along with the palace." And in a moment this was done, and the Moor and the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din and all in it were removed to the land of Africa. Thus it was with the Moorish sorcerer.
To return to the Sultan and 'Ala-ed-Din. When the Sultan arose in the morning from his sleep, in his affection and love for his daughter the Lady Bedr-el-Budur, he was wont every day when he was aroused from sleep to open the window and look out towards her. So he arose that day, as usual, and opened the window to look upon his daughter. But when he approached the window and looked towards the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din, he beheld nothing-nay, the place was as bare as it was of yore, and he saw neither palace nor any other building. And he was wrapped in amazement and distraught in mind; and he rubbed his eyes, in case they were dimmed or darkened, and returned to his observation, till at last he was sure that no trace or vestige of the palace remained; and he knew not how or why it had disappeared. So his wonder increased, and he smote his hands together, and the tears trickled down over his beard, because he knew not what had become of his daughter.
Then he sent at once and had the Wezir fetched. And he stood before him, and as soon as he came in he noticed the sorrowful state of his sovereign, and said to him: "Pardon, O King of the Age. God defend thee from calamity. Wherefore dost thou grieve?" The Sultan replied: "Perhaps thou dost not know my trouble?" And the Wezir said: "Not a whit, O my lord. By Allah, I have no knowledge of it whatever." Then said the Sultan: "It is evident thou hast not looked towards the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din." "True, O my master," replied the Wezir, "it must now be still closed." Then said the King: "Since thou hast no knowledge of anything, arise and look out of the window and see where 'Ala-ed-Din's palace is which thou sayest is shut up." So the Wezir arose and looked out of the window towards the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din, and could espy nothing, neither palace nor anything else. So his reason was amazed and he was astounded, and returned to the Sultan, who said: "Dost thou know now the reason of my grief, and hast thou observed the palace of 'Ala-ed-Din which thou saidst was shut?" The Wezir answered: "O King of the Age, I informed thy Felicity before that this palace and all these doings were magic" Then the Sultan was inflamed with wrath, and cried out: "Where is 'Ala-ed-Din?" He answered: "Gone to the chase." Thereupon the Sultan instantly ordered some of his aghas and soldiers to go and fetch 'Ala-ed-Din, pinioned and shackled. So the aghas and soldiers proceeded till they came upon 'Ala-ed-Din, whom they thus addressed: "Chastise us not, O our master 'Ala-ed-Din, for the Sultan hath commanded us to take thee chained and pinioned. So we beg thy pardon, for we are acting under the royal mandate, which we cannot oppose." When 'Ala-ed-Din heard the words of the aghas and soldiers, wonder took hold of him, and his tongue became tied, for he understood not the cause of this. Then turning to them, he said: "O company, have ye no knowledge of the cause of this order of the Sultan ? I know myself to be innocent, and to have committed no sin against the Sultan or against the kingdom." They answered: "O our master, we know no cause at all." Then 'Ala-ed-Din dismounted and said to them: "Do with me what the Sultan ordered, for the command of the Sultan must be on the head and the eye." Then the aghas chained 'Ala-ed-Din and manacled him and bound him with irons and led him to the city. And when the citizens saw him bound and chained with iron, they knew that the Sultan would cut off his head; and since he was exceedingly beloved of them all, the lieges assembled together and brought their weapons and went forth from their houses and followed the soldiers to see what would be the event.
When the troops with 'Ala-ed-Din reached the palace, they entered and told the Sultan; whereupon he straightway commanded the executioner to come and cut off his head.
But when the citizens knew this, they barred the gates and shut the doors of the palace, and sent a message to the Sultan, saying: "We will instantly pull down thy house over thy head and all others in it, if any mischief or harm come to 'Ala-ed-Din." So the Wezir went in and informed the Sultan, saying: "O King of the Age, thy command is about to seal the book of our lives. It were better to pardon 'Ala-ed-Din lest there come upon us the calamity of calamities; for the lieges love him more than us." Now the executioner had already spread the carpet of death, and seated 'Ala-ed-Din thereon, and bandaged his eyes, and had walked round him thrice, waiting for the King's command, when the Sultan looking out of the window, beheld his subjects attacking him and scaling the walls with intent to pull them down. So he immediately ordered the executioner to stay his hand, and bade the herald go out to the crowd and proclaim that he had pardoned 'Ala-ed-Din and granted him grace. When 'Ala-ed-Din saw he was free, and espied the Sultan seated on his throne, he drew near and said to him: "O my lord, since thy Felicity hath been gracious to me all my life, vouchsafe to tell me what is my offence." Then the Sultan said: "O traitor, hitherto I knew of no offence in thee." And turning to the Wezir, he said: "Take him and shew him from the windows where his palace is." And when the Wezir had led him and he had looked out of the window in the direction of his palace, he found the site bare as it was before he built his palace thereon; and he saw never a vestige of the palace at all.